The Art of Pissing Off the Jedi Council
by RawrzSkythrone
Summary: Life is all laser swords and floating fruit for Fletcher, a young Jedi Padawan. At least, it was, until a mission goes wayward and Fletcher learns the real meaning of "pissed off". And both the Council AND the Sith are pissed. Off. Set around 3000 to 2000 BBY. (ON HIATUS UNTIL LEGEND OF FURIOUS FIVE FINISHES)
1. Part 1: Mission

_Hello! You've reached_ The Art of Pissing Off the Jedi Council _. Please stand by._

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 _What you'll need in order to succeed:_

 _-Lots of sass(Required)_

 _-A sane mind_

 _-Lots of attitude_

 _-A good sense of what is right and wrong_

 _-The Force (optional, but preferred)_

 _-A good weapon (optional, but highly preferred)_

 _Now, you'll need to get the Council to send you on a mission that is sure to go wrong somehow. (They always hate when that happens, so that's a bonus.) You'll also want to use the sass(keep it around, it could be useful.)_

 _This won't be very hard, but it won't be easy, either. So go on, get yourself a good mission!_


	2. Chapter 1

**AN: Hey all of you people! Welcome to my veeery first fanfic,** _ **The Art of Pissing Off the Jedi Council**_ **. If you didn't realize it yet, this fic is set in the Old Republic, not nearly as far back as Revan, but earlier than Bane. Yeah! Go SW Legends!**

 **This fic is partially based on a roleplay community I'm in. So it maaaaay be slow going depending on what happens there. Also do note the word** _ **partially**_ **. The fic leans on the community, yes, but I do have some ideas for it cooking around my head. And, as you should know, I may have ideas but I may not be able to write them out so perfectly.**

 **Also, I may get writer's block. Excuse the long periods of time when this does not update. Thanks. Now go read.**

 _Chapter 1_

Nar Shaddaa, city world extraordinaire, central crime planet, where-the-lawless-belong was a terrible place in Fletcher's opinion. Of course, there were the smugglers, crime lords and bounty hunters that lived on it, did business on it and called it home, but to the Fosh, it was a disgusting waste of floating space rock.

"What a mess," Fletcher hissed, stepping around a puddle of… something putrid as he exited the ship. "Why did our informant choose this rock for the meeting place, anyway?"

"Would you rather somewhere different?" Fletcher's Master Sayirr asked lightly with a small smile.

"Of course I'd rather we meet somewhere different! Like, I dunno, somewhere a _respectable person_ would go?" Fletcher glared at two suspicious humans that were eyeing them greedily, and they scampered off. Thieves, probably.

Master Sayirr yanked her Padawan's arm sharply with the Force, making him stumble. "Well, our contact chose this place and here we are, on Nar Shaddaa, so we'd best get this over with. Fletcher, stay with the ship until I get back." Fletcher groaned and returned to the cockpit to check if he had any repairs to make while Jedi Master Elenti Sayirr strode off.

Fletcher knew that his Master was more than capable of handling this meeting by herself. At just over five feet, Jedi Master Elenti Sayirr was not a very intimidating human, but her glare could make you think twice about challenging her. She had long, dark hair dyed purple at the ends and pale skin, as well as intelligent brown eyes. She was bold, and said pretty much anything that came to her mind. Fletcher had seen her challenge Council members, and she argued determinedly when her ideas contradicted with the Council's.

However, Fletcher _also_ thought that made her a good Master. She questioned almost everything, and sought to see things from all angles before acting. She was considered a bit of a wayward Jedi, often going ahead with what she believed without, well, anyone's approval except hers. This allowed her to improvise on the fly during a critical moment. Which was part of the reason she was sent on this mission, to retrieve crucial information on the Sith from a mysterious contact. Just in case anything were to go wrong, she'd still be able to get the job done.

Fletcher ran a quick diagnostic scan, and then went back outside. The same two thieves were still lurking around, but the Jedi made a rude hand gesture at them and they ran off once again.

 _Nar Shaddaa really sucks,_ Fletcher thought to himself as he went back inside.

* * *

Silmak downed another bottle of alcohol as he waited at the bar. This was the last time, he decided, that he would deal with these Jedi kinds of people. Space-magicky, laser sword wielding maniacs. _Especially_ the space magic. On their best days, they were _usually_ friendly. On their worst… well, Silmak didn't want to know, and he didn't plan to find out.

The Nautolan smuggler waited a few more minutes, then sighed. _Guess the Jedi aren't coming_ , he thought. He shrugged and slipped out of the cantina, _The Bloated Udder_ , and then strolled leisurely across the street to his hotel, leaving the flashing lights and loud, boisterous music behind.

Silmak entered the spacious lobby. He strode across the marble tiles to the elevator, then rode it up to the fourth level, tapping his foot impatiently. When the elevator doors finally slid open, Silmak growled and stalked down the hallway, his calm completely evaporating. _I should have drunk more,_ he thought to himself. About to take out his key to unlock the door when behind him, the Nautolan heard a _hiss-snap_. Like… a lightsaber. Silmak turned slowly, seeing a menacing figure cloaked in black leaning against the wall. Dangling in his fingers was the hilt of a lightsaber, flashing silver in the dim light. The smuggler backed up slowly.

"What do you want?" he asked the man in a frosty tone, trying to hide his trembling beneath a cold facade. Who was this man, and how'd he sneak up on him?

The man with the lightsaber stood up straight, and leered. He ignited the blade and carelessly swung his red lightsaber around. "You have information… classified information that shouldn't get out. Especially to certain, ah, Jedi. And I'm here to make sure that doesn't happen."

Silmak glared at him, brushing aside his fears. Suddenly, to him, this was just another one of those crazies he did business with. "Look, shit for brains, I don't have any information. Besides, why would I contact the Jedi? Messing with you people has been a mistake. You're all bad luck, you know that? Wherever you space magic people go, there's always trouble following close behind. I'll have no dealings with you, too."

The man snarled angrily. "You'll pay for those insults! With your life!"

"Forgive me if I don't end fast enough," the smuggler drawled in a careless tone.

Silmak drew his blaster and shot two bolts at the man, but he easily deflected them off to the side. The man with the lightsaber raced up to him faster than any normal person could, his mouth twisted in a vicious smirk, and the Nautolan didn't even have time to scream as he fell to the ground in two pieces.

* * *

Fletcher debated going out for spare parts. If he went, some thieves might come around. The two that Fletcher had scared off kept hanging around until finally, Fletcher used the mind trick – "You don't want my stuff" – on the bandits. They had mindlessly repeated the phrase and left, but who knew what else rotted in this filthy cesspool. Of course, he didn't actually need the parts right now, but he couldn't tell if he'd need them later. It was always handy to have spare parts.

"It's settled, then," Fletcher said aloud. "I'm going out." He strode down the ramp, glanced around, then went off into the streets in search of the parts he needed.

Finding his parts proved to be a challenge, because he kept getting sidetracked. Twice, he'd been asked to buy death sticks by shady-looking fellows, and _five times_ he saw people get killed in streetside fights. Fletcher knew that the lawlessness of the planet meant rough, rude, crazy people, but he hadn't expected to see people die. He also didn't expect the fancy background.

The street was lined with elaborate palaces and buildings. Flashing lights and blinking signs, all vying for attention crowded the edges of Fletcher's vision. One pointed to a cantina, where boisterous music and the smell of alcohol spilled out the entrance. Another beckoned towards a shop which sold _highly_ illegal weapons.

After acquiring some parts with much difficulty from a particularly nasty Dug, he started to retrace his steps to his ship. As he walked along the street, his comlink beeped. He pressed it, and his master's voice hissed, "Get the ship ready for take off! Now!" The sounds of lightsabers clashing followed it before the com fell silent.

Fletcher jumped at his Master's urgent tone. He took off, using his long legs and the Force to increase his speed. Skidding to a stop in front of the _Lumi_ , he leaped up the boarding ramp and flicked the ignition switch.

The Jedi frantically pushed buttons and flipped switches, seating himself in the pilot's chair. He grabbed the yoke with a hand and eased the ship off the landing pad, peering out of the transparisteel to look for Master Sayirr.

There! She was defending furiously against a man in black, who wielded a red lightsaber. Their blades moved so quickly they were streaks of light, and Fletcher couldn't tell who was winning and who wasn't. The fight made its way into the docking bay, and the Fosh tried to get his Master's attention.

Master Sayirr did a backflip and spotted Fletcher. He waved frantically through the viewport and motioned to the open ramp, still extended. The Jedi Master ran from her opponent and jumped on to the ramp, and slammed a fist on the control console to close the ramp. Fletcher pulled back on the yoke, and they shot out of the port.

Fletcher flew the ship upwards, though the polluted atmosphere and once _Lumi_ had cleared the gravitational field, he made the jump to lightspeed.

As the viewport filled with white streaks, the Jedi Master came into the cockpit. Sayirr laid a gentle hand on Fletcher's shoulder. "Good job," she said. "You did well back there."

Fletcher shrugged, embarrassed at the compliment, ducking his head. "Who was that?" the Padawan asked. "A Sith?"

"One of the lesser ones, not as powerful as I thought," clarified Master Sayirr. "Seems like someone tipped him off about our mission and he was to take our informant out before we could reach him. I met the Sith on the way to meet up with our contact. He _did_ stop me from seeing our friend, but…" She pulled out a small datacard and smirked. "I snatched this from our Sith. I'm sure this was the information we were supposed to receive, and with the additional bonus of seeing this Sith, we can be sure that something big's cooking. The Sith have been inactive… until now. We've got to get back to the Council right away."

Fletcher looked at her. Master Sayirr was one of the few who still believed that the Sith were out there somewhere, biding their time. The Council mostly disapproved of that thought. "Just… don't do anything stupid in front of the Council again," Fletcher sighed.

"I'll do what I must," Sayirr replied. A small smile graced her lips.

* * *

Relton watched the Jedi ship fly away. He was seething. The Jedi had gotten away with the information! He growled angrily, but then suddenly grinned. Not a nice grin, but a predatory smile of one who had the situation in his hands. On the back of the ship, getting smaller and smaller, was a blinking green dot.

 _Don't worry, my masters. The Jedi will be disposed of soon enough._ The Sith watched the ship disappear as it jumped to hyperspace, and looked at his com, which flashed as the tracker did its work.

The Jedi might have gotten away now, but Relton could make sure that they didn't get the info back to their precious Jedi Order. Heck, he could even make sure they didn't get back alive. He spun his lightsaber around and deactivated it, clipping the hilt to his belt next to the shorter shoto. Grabbing his dark cloak from where he'd shed it on the ground – the stink on it would take forever to wash out – he strode to his ship. _Time to go on a hunt,_ he thought to himself, licking his lips at the idea.


	3. Chapter 2

**AN: Yes, I know, my writing kinda sucks. I'm a bit new to all this, so forgive me if the story seems too fast paced, or too dull, or whatever. Hopefully you guys enjoy it… if not, well, alright then. That's completely fine. I'm still working on refining my skills, so I get it if the fic's terrible.**

 **Also! Let's just pretend the information in here lines up with what really happened in Legends. I'm not the most knowlegable on the topic, so… just bear with me.**

 **Anyways! Enough rambling. Now you know what's cooking, keep on reading! Or not! But please do!**

 _Chapter 2_

Fletcher's fingers brushed over the console, the blinking lights, flashing buttons and flipped switches. He kept his hand around the yoke even though the ship was in hyperspace, and did not need an active pilot. But he liked the feel of the controls, so in the pilot's seat he stayed. These were the rare moments during missions he enjoyed, when he could pilot a ship.

Something about the stars intrigued the Fosh. He loved the wildness and untamed beauty of the galaxy, and longed to be out there, among the distant planets. There were _so_ many possibilities out there in the vast space, and Fletcher wanted to know them all. And inside him, he knew that there was a fire that ached to be set free, the root of all these desires.

Fletcher's mind wandered to Coruscant. He'd spent most of his life there. But there was so much about himself he had never discovered there. Heck, he didn't even know what his birth planet was! All he knew was the life of the Jedi, memories of his parents forgotten. He had siblings, yes, the brothers and sisters of the Jedi. A thousand little points of light, all connected by the Force. This way, a Jedi was never truly alone. They would always be surrounded by their fellow Jedi, be it Padawans, younglings or Masters.

His thoughts drifted away from him yet again, and he found himself wondering about the Sith. According to the Jedi Archives, the Sith had reemerged time after time, striking against their opposites, the Jedi. But each time, the Jedi had defeated their darker brothers, sending them retreating repeatedly. Fletcher pondered about what made the Jedi so victorious. The Masters told him that the use of the Dark side had made them greedy and ambitious, and they had torn themselves apart with backstabs and instead of standing strong together. So… how did they keep resurfacing?

A light brush of his shoulder brought the Fosh back to reality, and he looked upon Master Sayirr's face.

"I've got bad news," she said, grimacing. "Guess what our dark friend did? He put a _tracker_ on our ship when we left. I'd always suspected we got away rather easily…"

Fletcher frowned. "There's no way to take it off unless we land or dock somewhere, and it can't be at Tython… what do you suggest?"

"Oh, I don't know, what do you think, Fletcher?" Elenti grinned, waiting for the Padawan to think up something instead.

"Ha ha, Master, very funny," grumbled Fletcher. "Anyway, I say we drop out at the nearest hyperspace exit _not_ in Sith Space. We've got a long way to Tython, so it'll be hard, but I think we can get it off and scram in time."

The Master nodded in approval. "Where are we docking, then?"

Fletcher glanced at the navicomputer. "I'll, uh, figure it out, Master," he mumbled sheepishly. She raised an eyebrow at his antics.

" _Well then_ , I'll be meditating in the back room. Notify me when we're about to dock, alright?" With that, Elenti swept out of the cockpit briskly. Fletcher heard her open a door, then have it slam shut with a thwack, making him jump. Then there was a loud swear, and and Fletcher briefly thought, _is swearing allowed in the Jedi Order?_ He winced when Elenti howled, "FLETCHER! DID YOU LOCK THE DOOR FROM THE INSIDE AGAIN?!"

"Nooooooo…. yes…. uh, maybe…?" the Fosh answered timidly. There was another bang, and another volley of cursing began. This was normal for his Master, though he didn't know why. She swore every time she got agitated, and _the worst part_ was that now he swore a lot, too. _Thanks a lot for_ that _habit, Master,_ he grumbled through their Force bond. Turning back to the navicomputer, Fletcher went back to studying the list of planets they could land on.

* * *

The Force was cold. It had been like this for many weeks, but today, it was ice, freezing, snapping and lashing out with its biting winds. The Jedi Master in meditation felt the Force swirling around her as a warm, gentle current, but beyond that, a blustery breeze that chilled her, even through her warm shield.

 _Something is wrong._ The Force itself whispered to her, stroking her shoulder, and nudging her incessantly in one direction. The Sith assassin being there had not been a coincidence. _Someone_ had known about their mission, and told the Sith. The assassin would only be the first one, she was sure. More Sith would be coming for them soon enough.

Before, the mission had only been to gather the information and leave. But now… now, with the Sith after them, they could do well to learn a little more from their enemy who always found a way to survive, somehow.


	4. Chapter 3

**AN: I had this story all planned out, but then some, uh, things happened… so I'm going to have to make a few changes to it. Also, I'm working on a new story while I get brain farts and writer's block, called** _ **Legend of the Furious Five.**_ **Go check it out if you're bored of this story and want some mischievous younglings and Obi-Wan the storyteller.**

 **So here's this chapter. I'll try not to keep stalling my writing.**

 _Chapter 3_

Fletcher was arguing with the stubborn hangar manager that he _needed the spot_ and _he didn't need to pay to stay there for a few minutes._ And he was running thin on patience.

"You need to pay the credits all the same," growled the human as he looked at his datapad and checked off something on it. Fletcher barely refrained from rolling his eyes. All he needed was to get the tracker off and leave. That was _it_. He didn't want to stay here for long, anyway. And as the seconds ticked by, that Sith was getting closer and closer. Naboo was not the best of places to stop, as it was a bit too close to the far-out regions of the galaxy, and it made Fletcher a bit uncomfortable. Although, he did prefer it to Nar Shaddaa. At least the place wasn't crawling with criminals.

Fletcher was on the verge of using the mind trick on the man when Elenti strolled down the boarding ramp and deposited a pile of credits in the man's hand. The hangar manager looked at the Jedi Master, shrugged and strode away, dropping the credits into a pouch by his side.

"There's no harm in spending a few credits," Master Sayirr said, glancing at Fletcher. The Padawan ducked his head, embarrassed. He looked up.

"But it's not fair!" the Fosh groaned. "We're not even staying for that much time!" His Master looked at him with a sparkle in her brown eyes. "Fletcher," she deadpanned, "if life was fair, the Sith and the Jedi would be having tea parties together and there would be no crime happening in the galaxy at all. And I wouldn't be a Jedi, I'd be the supreme Chancellor."

Fletcher stifled a laugh. This was why he loved his master. He turned back towards the ship, sighing as he remembered why he was out here in the first place. Scooping up some tools, he began to make his way up the side of the ship, grasping the protruding metal with his strong claws. Elenti watched him climb for a moment before she called, "I'll be inside! Meditating!"

"Geez master, that's all you do now," Fletcher mumbled, but quietly so she didn't hear. Master Sayirr didn't appear to have heard it, and strolled back up the ramp inside the ship.

Fletcher looked around, not spotting the tracking device immediately. He crawled across the top of the ship, checked the transparisteel of the cockpit, scrabbled for a hold and nearly slipped off the thrusters, and spied nothing on the wings. _If I were a tracker, where would I be?_ Fletcher wondered as he surveyed the ship again.

The tracker had to be small and unnoticeable. It would have to be in a place hard for him to reach, or hidden from sight by something. Maybe under the wing? Nope. Fletcher had already checked there. Under the belly of the ship? Not possible. Fletcher hadn't seen anything there, either. He ambled in a circle around the _Lumi_ , but still didn't find anything. Hm.

The sleek metal plating of the ship gleamed dully in the sun as it struck in the perfect angle. It dazzled Fletcher's eyes so he had to look away from the _Lumi_ momentarily. But something caught his attention as he jerked his gaze away from the ship.

There! Attached to the underside of a thruster, was the tracker. It was a small square with a red dot on top. The tracker had been cleverly placed so that the blinking red light was hidden from view by the broad edge of the thruster. If one looked very carefully, they could spot it, but otherwise, it was well concealed.

Fletcher worried away at the tracker's four "claws" until they slowly made a scraping sound, sliding loose from the ship. It took more tugging and jerking at the device until it finally came free, falling into Fletcher's palm with a soft thump. The Fosh eyed it for a moment, then threw it on the ground and smashed it into tiny bits under a boot.

"Master!" he called. "What?" came the muffled response. "I got it off!" There was a moment of silence, then "So we are going to Tython now?"

"I don't know, you're the master, you make the plans," hollered the Padawan. "Haha, very funny," Elenti grumbled, coming out of her room. "We're going to Tython now, then."

"Not so fast!" growled a deep voice. Both Jedi whirled around to see the same Sith that they had faced on the crime world, standing nearby with slitted eyes.

"Hey, it's the Sith," Fletcher said to Master Sayirr in a bored tone, tugging on their training bond. "He's come to get his information."

"How intimidating," drawled the Jedi Master. "Oh, look, he's going to have a fit and use the Dark side. Ooooh, scary."

Relton could not have been more infuriated. These Jedi weren't supposed to be making _fun_ of him! They were supposed to be either a) trembling in fear or b) getting ready to fight him. But nooo, they were just standing there, making a fool of him. Sith training had _not_ prepared him for this.

The Sith pulled out his lightsaber and activated the red blade, swishing it through the air. Finally, the Jedi acted, the Padawan summoning a yellow blade to his hand, and the Master igniting a brilliant green one. Relton screeched in rage, and ran forward, intending to end the Jedi's lives then and there. But, of course, that didn't go exactly as he planned.

Two Jedi were hard to fight. Even if one of them was only half a Jedi. Relton slashed and spun, but he could not land a single hit on either of the light-sided warriors. He growled in frustration and Force pushed at them, but they were ready and blocked it effortlessly. The Sith assassin became more and more frantic as he was pushed back, the tides changing from his assured victory to a Jedi one.

With a snarl of rage, he blocked high, low, then planted a hand on the ground and kicked Fletcher's feet right out from under him. The Padawan fell with an " _oof"_ and the Jedi Master had to step out of the way to avoid accidentally hurting him. The small pause in Elenti's attack allowed Relton to push forward, easing out of the defensive to attack aggressively.

Fletcher frantically rolled out of the way of the flashing blades, snatching at his saber which had landed a few feet away. He grabbed it and re-ignited it, determined to rejoin the fight by his Master and beat the Sith. But the assassin sensed him coming, and used the Force to throw the Fosh backwards again. Fletcher cursed and scrambled back to his feet quickly, just in time to see the Sith draw a second, slightly shorter red blade and begin an even more vicious assault on the Jedi Master.

"Master, look out!" cried the young Jedi, and Elenti hissed, sidestepping a stab which would have been a fatal shot had he not warned of it her.

"I am looking out, what do you think I'm doing?" the Master shouted back. Great. Sarcasm from his master in the middle of a battle.

Fletcher sighed mentally but leaped back towards the two combatants. He ducked under a slash that would have decapitated him and, for payback, kicked the Sith, making him jerk sideways in surprise and mistime a swipe that almost took out Fletcher's leg, but instead only grazed it.

The assassin cursed as he slipped on a stray piece of metal that had, _coincidentally_ , been under his foot as he stepped down hard to recover from the kick. He fell back with a loud THUD on his back, and flipped over to get back on his feet, but Fletcher and Elenti combined a Force push to shove him halfway across the hangar.

"Quick, let's get away from here!" Fletcher exclaimed, running to the _Lumi_ with Elenti hot on his heels. By the time Relton managed to get back up, the ship was already starting to ascend into the air. Not again!

Relton drew back his hand, and threw his lightsaber with all his might, using the Force to amplify his strength. The red blade flew, end over end, towards the escaping _Lumi_ , and sank deep into one of the thrusters before falling back to the ground, the Sith catching it in his hand with a snarl etched on his face.

* * *

Fletcher frantically flipped switches and punched buttons as the warning lights on the console flashed. _Lumi_ rocked as one of the thrusters started to weaken and overbalance one side of the ship. The ship hadn't been heavily damaged, but Fletcher would need to get it fixed up to navigate the complex maze of hyperspace lanes that led to the Deep Core. A broken thruster wouldn't do.

"What's going on, Fletcher?" yelled Elenti as she clung to the frame of the shaking cockpit.

"Oh, nothing, just a minor problem," Fletcher replied tensely, hand firmly gripped on the yoke. The ship swayed for a few more minutes, then stabilized as the Fosh activated the emergency power. They needed to land. _Again._

 _This is getting old,_ Fletcher thought. _Please, please let us not meet the Sith again once we land._ But of course, the Force had other plans for them.


End file.
